


528491

by orphan_account



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Deception, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forging (Inception), Implied/Referenced Incest, Mind Games, Non-compliant with The Assignment, Pre-The Evil Within
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t quite remember how she got here. There is a storm outside, that much she knows. It's wild and raging violently enough that it has knocked out the power lines. The mansion she has taken shelter in is a mess of dimly lit candles and withering shadows. It feels so empty, like no one has lived in it for years despite its up kept condition and lack of dust. It puts her on edge, as does its host.</p><p>Though he is not as off putting as her hazy memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	528491

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE spoilers for the game as far as what role Juli plays. This is mostly speculation and smut, seeing as it's still unknown who Juli is and who Mobius is. Really, I just wanted to write porn tbh, but what's knew?

She doesn’t quite remember how she got here. There is a storm outside, that much she knows. It's wild and raging violently enough that it has knocked out the power lines. The mansion she has taken shelter in is a mess of dimly lit candles and withering shadows. It feels so empty, like no one has lived in it for years despite its up kept condition and lack of dust. It puts her on edge, as does its host.

Though they are not as off putting as her hazy memory.

Of course she knows her name is Laura, and she knows her car died earlier that evening. This place was the closest refuge from the storm, but she can’t remember walking here, can’t remember if she was picked up from her broken down vehicle. Water hasn’t soaked into her long dark locks and her clothes are dry as bone, but she must have walked through the storm at some point

“Laura,” the young man sitting across from her at the dinner table pulls her from her confused thoughts.

Ruben Victoriano is pale as porcelain  ~~ _white as a corpse_~~ , and there is a effete sort of look to him. He has elegantly parted cornsilk colored hair, a fine furrowed brow, and currently his mouth is turned down in a tight frown. The expression draws her eyes from his mouth to the small beauty mark beneath his lower lip, the only thing marring his clear pale skin. Laura’s gaze lifts to meet his slate colored eyes and as the amber glow of the candles and fireplace flicker they cast glimpses of gold across his irises.

“I’m sorry,” she offers with a soft smile, her hands folding on the table, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Ruben’s frown eases and he shrugs while carding a hand through his hair, but his gaze softens, “It’s nothing, I’m sure you’re quite tired. It’s late, isn’t it?”

The way his eyes draw over her body makes her skin tingle and crawl. Suddenly her heartbeat is in her ears. Except it isn’t her heartbeat after a few seconds, the thump thump turns fierce and shrill, amping up into a whining-buzz until the fire burns harshly across her skin in a rush of excruciating pain and breath stealing pleasure. The walls begin to peel and melt like the wax from candles, Ruben’s face becomes a mess of craigly burn scars and she wants to scream.

 

Silence.

 

She comes back to herself and he’s still staring at her just as intently, pale and whole and perfect. The walls aren’t melting anymore, there is no noise. Her skin prickles with sensitivity, and when she brushes a hand against the tablecloth in an attempt to take a drink she bites back a soft moan. Heat floods her stomach as his eyes seem to catch the movement and he licks his lower lip.

Her mind scrambles for an out in a flood of pure panic. It’s late, isn’t it?

“You’re right, I am feeling pretty tired. Do you think I might excuse myself?”

“Not at all. Let me show you to your room.”

They stand together, albeit her legs are wobbly for a moment, and he leads the way. As they walk up to the guest bedroom from the grand double staircase she can’t help but notice the few longing glances he sneaks her way. She ignores them, and instead decides to distract herself by glancing over the library as they pass through. She thinks maybe she might come back and grab something to read while she waits out the storm.

Later, after he thinks she is asleep.

There is a palpable thrill of relief as she shuts the door behind her and she is no longer being subjected to his stares. She takes a minute to lean against it and just breathe, not realizing until now that her chest is so tightly constricted. After a moment she glances around the room.

There were a couple candles sparsely scattered amongst the furniture, though they seemed to sputter and dip in time with the wind and rain raging against the room’s windows despite the lack of a breeze in the room. To her left was a door, which she immediately locked, not wholly sure what brought forth that reaction but trusting her gut instinct implicitly.

Laura turns around just in time to glimpse lightning flooding the room and reflecting from the mirrored desk sitting in the far corner. Something about it seems to draw her forward. She moves toward it, then takes a seat . Absently she picks up a hair brush that sat on it and starts to brush her hair.

Looking up at the mirror, cornflower blue eyes gaze back at her from a pale pretty face. A moment of befuddlement made her eyes widen as she drops the brush. Her eyes were too blue, skin too pale, hair too long and too dark. The image seems to ripple and suddenly her breath catches in her lungs. There is a ... thing staring at her. It is like a deformed version of her clawing at the other side of mirror. Her long dark hair is shrouding it's face, but she glimpses blue eyes and pale skin.  It cannot be her, she thinks desperately. It is a mess too many limbs, naked and covered in grit and blood. It screams then and rends the air so shrill her ears feel like they're bleeding.

She must have blacked out this time, she looks up to find the mirror is broken. Shaking her head to try to clear her thoughts, she slowly looks over at the window with a measure of uncertainty. At least the storm seems to have calmed, but it’s late enough and the power still seems to be out.

When she takes a candle from the table in the center of the room she notices it has melted rather low, and can’t help but wonder if she had been out that long. The house is dark now, most of the candles seem to be put out now. As her's lights her path to the library, she feels her nerves standing on edge.

Her nerves hit a crescendo and once again her breath fails her as she steps into the library. Ruben is sitting at the desk in the center with his back to her. Though that seems innocuous enough, it is the sight of the horrible monstrosity from the mirror wrapped in his arms that has her mind scrabbling back in fear. Slowly they both turn to look at her and time seems to stop. Lightning strikes out of no where and as it does the books turn dilapidated and moldy in their shelves.

When she looks back at Ruben the thing is gone, and she shakes her head and does a quick once over of the room. The books are fine.

“I just wanted a book,” she manages to not stutter, her mouth dry as a desert.

“Go ahead,” he nods around the room, his deep voice reverberating and sliding down her spine.

She grabs something in a mindless rush, barely glancing over the title. Mechanically her limbs quickly drag her back to her room, but on her way out she makes the mistake of looking back, and the thing is once again wrapped in Ruben's arms.

 

Her hands are shaking so violently that she drops the book when she goes to lock the door behind her.

 

There must have been another blackout at some point after that, because all the candles are burning low now and there is a persistent knocking at the door when she comes to.

“Laura?” Ruben calls softly through the door.

She swallows and considers not replying. That doesn't not seem to deter him. She doesn’t remember unlocking the door, but he must have a key. How else would he have made it through the door within seconds of knocking? Surely he didn't just go through it like it didn't exist?

He’s staring again, and it’s horrifying and frightening somehow, despite the gentle longing in his eyes. Suddenly Ruben takes a seat on the bed  ~~ _when did she lay down? How did he get here so fast?_~~ and leans in to stroke a hand over her cheek. Laura is not prepared for the sensation. It burns, it hurts, it feels good all at once. Her eyes are tearing up and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from making noise and tastes blood.

He frowns at her reaction, something like worry twists across his pretty face. It is worse when he leans in to kiss her. It feels like it is an apology, but all it brings is agony. He tastes like ozone and kisses her like this is the last time. It feels like her heart is exploding in her chest as he crawls above her. The sensation is too much and not enough all at once. He lays a line of kisses from her mouth to her collarbone and it's enough to make her drown beneath him.

They become a tangle of naked bodies in the next second  ~~ _when did they undress?_~~ , him above her, his head buried into the nape of her neck. His breath is hot, his mouth is scorching, his touch is tearing her apart. 

“Laura,” he hisses desperately into the skin of her neck, his slim body trapping hers beneath his as he angles his hips between her thighs. She's clawing at his back and her legs are gripping his hips in an attempt to find purchase in the sea of tormenting sensations. Ruben leans his forehead against hers before pushing inside her and now Laura is burning from the inside out.

She begs him to stop, she begs him to keep going. She begs. He bites at her breasts and soothes with his tongue and lips, yet surprisingly his touches are tender in some places while turn bruising in others. His head lift as she comes around him, like he wants to capture the look on her face forever.

She remember then, in the midst of too intense sensation. Remembers everything like some sick joke.

STEM, Mobius, Ruvik.

God, Ruvik, who is above her, touching her, moaning into her ear as he finishes inside her.

She is Juli Kidman, an operative of Mobius.

And just like that the image she had been projecting fades away. Slowly he looks up to meet her gaze and now he knows too. His face twists into pure rage,  his body still above her in an intimate embrace.

“I’ll destroy you,” he snarls as he reaches for her throat.

Immediately she focuses on the feel of her nails digging into her palm. A sharp gasp for breath escapes her as she comes free from the STEM system. She’s panting from the strain of pulling free, her heart beating hard and fast against her chest.

She has failed to pull any relevant information from Ruvik this time and cannot help but feel disappointed in herself. She has been practicing for ages at blending in, perfected it so much that she got lost in his fantasy. It could not have been helped, after all, it had not specified in the files that Ruvik had… incestuous feelings towards his sister when she had been studying up on Laura Victoriano. Still, she supposed it would be a good way to manipulate him later. There were still so many things they could learn from him. Unfortunately since she was playing on his playing field it made things unpredictable.

  
She goes home exhausted, eyes and temples throbbing from exertion in the STEM system and too many hours between working at the police station and working for Mobius. When she dreams she sees Ruvik, not Ruben, above her. He is choking her and fucking her all at once. She wakes up wet and flushed and thinks of Sebastian Castellanos instead, almost as though in an attempt of defiance. It is an effort to impose him over Ruvik’s body, but soon enough can practically feel his hard muscles, sharp stubble, and accusing eyes on her. Hell, she can practically smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. When she finally comes it's not to his voice murmuring hotly in her ear, but to Ruvik’s angry whispers about how he’s going to make her suffer, that finally pushes her over the edge.


End file.
